


Dinner

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Blow Jobs, Cannibalism, M/M, Ramsay is his own warning, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7038880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After leaving him in the kennels during a hunt, Ramsay surprises his pet with the first dinner he's had in a very long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> ayy yo my first thrams, and i go straight to cannibalism apparently. go big or go home.

Ramsay had taken the girls on a hunt, but had left him in the kennels, and he wasn’t sure how to feel. On one hand, the hunts were dreadful. His mangled feet tripped through the underbrush, and he was always scolded for falling behind the other hounds. Of course, Ramsay waited for him to catch up before capturing his prey, so he was never excused from watching. Somehow, though the result was always the same, Ramsay managed to make the experience different each time. He had never been able to predict the precise horror that awaited each girl at the end of the game, and so he could never truly brace himself. So, he didn’t regret missing this one.

 

However, the hunts weren’t all bad. The woods were full of fresh air, fragrant crunching leaves, the sound of birds. Such pleasant things did not often populate his world, so he tried to cherish them whenever he could. He didn’t deserve anything good, so he had to be grateful when these little blessings crossed his path. He’d also become close with Ramsay’s girls, enough to consider them friends. They were the only ones who listened to him, who kept him together in the long, dark silence. When they left, he had to keep himself together on his own, and it was an incredible task. He began wishing for the sight of Ramsay’s face. Why had he left him behind? Would a day ever come when Ramsay left him behind forever?

 

Of course, there was another reason, a more practical reason he wished he hadn’t been left behind today. He was hungry. It had been days since his last meal—a few scraps tossed from the dinner table, whatever remained when Ramsay called the hounds away so his weakest dog could eat, too. Ramsay was merciful, in that way. He always spared a thought for him, the frailest of the pack. So, when he’d reappeared in the kennels today, Reek’s heart had swelled, thinking perhaps he’d be fed. Sometimes, when the hunting party went so far ahead that he could no longer see them, Reek would take a few leaves from plants he recognized and chew on them as he caught up, or an apple that had already fallen from a late autumn tree. These were some more of the small blessings he didn’t deserve, but still cherished.

 

Right now, as he lay with his aching back against the cold stone wall of the kennel, he tried to imagine the taste of an apple. Not just a mealy, half-rotted apple like the ones he found in the woods, but a real apple. Red, ripe, with juicy pale fruit just beneath the polished skin.

 

His body stiffened, and he squeezed his eyes shut as every inch of him shivered, prickling cold. He’d never eaten a fruit like that, never in his life. The memories that had surfaced, they weren’t his. They weren’t. There had been a boy who’d eaten such things, but Reek had never known him.

 

He would eat when his master fed him, and that was that. Until then, it was useless and greedy to think about food.

 

In the quiet, without the rustling and snoring of dogs, he fell into a fitful sleep. Whenever he woke, he found the stumps of his fingers in his mouth. The nagging pain of his broken teeth on his own skin would wake him, he’d tuck his hands between his curled up legs, and fall back asleep only to find them back in his mouth sometime later. He couldn’t help it when he was this hungry. After a thorough lesson from Ramsay, he’d almost stopped chewing on them when he was nervous, but hunger was something he couldn’t control so well, especially in his sleep. The feeling of something in his mouth soothed him, even if it was his own flesh.

 

A chorus of barking and voices woke him some hours later, and he struggled to sit up before Ramsay returned. For a long while he was ignored, as the dogs and horses were tended to. The men chatted outside the kennel amongst each other, and Reek rubbed his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t be in trouble for sleeping. He hadn’t been given any chores, but that didn’t seem to keep him from being punished for lazing about. The girls nuzzled him through the bars of the cage, but he couldn’t afford to distract himself. Tying his fingers in nervous knots to keep them out of his mouth, he waited for Ramsay to need him again.

 

Ramsay didn’t come, but a servant did. The girl refused to look at Reek, and he didn’t take offense. Women made him nervous in general, and their attention set his heart racing with fear. This way, he could hear her message without worry, and set about following the orders as quickly as he could. His aching legs fought him as he struggled to his feet, but he managed to stumble out of the kennels and hurry as well as he could to Ramsay’s chambers.

 

If he was being ordered up there tonight, things had either gone incredibly well or very much the opposite. The possibility of the latter broke a feverish sweat across him. It trickled down between his shoulder blades and stung the skin still broken from his last whipping. _Please, no more, not yet_ , he pleaded to no one. Not while he was so weak and dizzy with hunger.

 

So wrapped up was he in the possibility of more punishment that when he entered Ramsay’s room to find him grinning, he almost burst into tears. Ramsay read him in an instant, and let out a wheezy chuckle. It wasn’t a bad sound, though. It wasn’t the face he wore when he’d just spoken to his father.

 

“Reek! Did you miss me today?”

 

“Yes, my lord. Of course.” These days, he didn’t even feel so shameful for the sincerity behind those words. The other one might have, but Reek didn’t.

 

“You’ll be happy to know,” he said, turning away to drink from the goblet on his table, “you’ll have a new sister in the kennels. Isn’t that nice?”

 

“Yes my lord. Thank you.” His breath caught on his gratitude, hitching as he imagined what she must have done to give him a worthy chase. They were only reborn as dogs when they forced Ramsay to do the most unspeakable things. He never understood why they tried to fight, why they tried to be clever. There was no person cleverer than his master, and there was no winning against him. Why couldn’t they just be good and choose the quickest death?

 

“Reek.”

 

He jumped to attention. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

 

“What for?” The tilt in his smile washed Reek in a cold bath of fear. What was it? He’d let his attention wander, yes, but he was so tired, so hungry. This happened often. No, this grin from Ramsay was something different. “Is there something you want to share with me?”

 

“N-No, my lord. I don’t…I don’t think so.” The longer those colorless eyes bored into him, the more frantically he searched the tatters of his mind for something he may have done. It was so useless. Reek was too stupid.

 

“Then, what is this?” He crossed the room and stood inches from Reek, his body a wall before which Reek tried his best not to cower. Ramsay raised his meaty finger to nestle just below Reek’s lower lip, and Reek shivered at the warm touch. That finger traced back and forth across the skin there, and Reek felt a tug, something flaking. “I thought we discussed this, already. Have you been helping yourself to my father’s rats?”

 

His eyes widened at the mere idea, and some part of him relived the punishments he’d taken for desperately eating rats in the dungeon. No, no, he would never. Not anymore. He had learned. If blood had dried on his face, it might have been from his cracked and broken lips, but more likely…

 

As he broke his gaze from Ramsay’s and glanced down at his hands, he saw what had happened. His fingers had been caught on his broken teeth, and had bled as he chewed on them in his sleep.

 

“I see,” Ramsay said, lowering his finger to wrap his hands over both of Reek’s. They were big, whole, and hot around Reek’s small, cold, broken ones. This close, Reek could smell the wine on his master’s breath. Wine and meat. His stomach gave a pitiful whine. “Chewing your fingers again? That’s disgusting, Reek. What have I told you about that nasty habit?”

 

“I’m sorry, my lord, truly, I didn’t—” He stopped himself, stopped the flood before it was too late. Sometimes, he drowned in apologies, and it was awful. The drowning, and the punishment that followed.

 

“You must be very hungry indeed, to do such a naughty thing.” He had that look in his eye, the seed of an idea, but Reek couldn’t guess what. “Are you hungry, Reek?”

 

He hated these questions, they made him even dizzier than he was. Yes, and he was greedy. No, and he was denying his master. His hands unconsciously struggled inside Ramsay’s, but that was bad. Ramsay would think he was crafting a lie.

 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” he growled, rearing back to slap Reek across the face. As he stumbled, clutching his cheek where it stung, Ramsay fumed. “I take all this time to prepare a dinner for you, and this is how you act?”

 

For a moment, Reek doubted his hearing. Ramsay hadn’t just decided to feed him, he’d prepared something especially for him? “My lord, I don’t, I don’t deserve a meal.”

 

“Of course you don’t! But I’m feeling generous. Today was especially fun, and it’s a shame you had to miss it. Would you like me to tell you what I did with her?”

 

If it meant getting to eat a meal, Reek would listen to anything. A whole dinner. Being prepared for him?

 

“That’s why you’re acting like this, isn’t it?” He drew close again, wrapping his big hand around Reek’s shoulder. “You wanted to be with me, didn’t you?”

 

“Yes.” Pitiful, it sounded so small. This close, Ramsay was so warm and solid. Without thinking, without permission, he leaned against his master’s chest.

 

Luck was on his side, it seemed, as Ramsay chuckled at this. His voice vibrated in Reek’s bones. When Reek’s stomach yowled again, Ramsay stepped back, wearing a lopsided grin. “Well, it looks like you can’t even wait for your meal to be brought up. If you’re so hungry, I have something to tide you over.”

 

That smile, it devoured him. The last tingles of contentment dissolved on his skin as Ramsay tugged him by the collar to bed. Reek knelt before it, a familiar position, and his bones ached as they hit the floor. First his knees, then his jaw. Tears sprang to his eyes as he choked on Ramsay, but oddly enough, Ramsay hadn’t been wrong about staving off his hunger. While it wasn’t food, and the experience wasn’t anything Reek would call pleasant, the feeling of something in his mouth soothed him, even if it was his master’s flesh. As much as some brittle, withered part of him recoiled in disgust, seeing Ramsay pleased with him made the choking and rawness in his throat more bearable.

 

He was still on his knees and gasping when the serving maid knocked on the door. Ramsay didn’t order him otherwise, so he remained there as Ramsay laced his britches and called her in. He wore a glittering smile on his face, with cheeks ruddy from pleasure and wine. Perhaps that was what set the maid shivering as she entered.

 

Her tray didn’t look particularly heavy, so her tremors had to be from fear. Reek hung his head, wondering if he was to blame. Because of him, this woman was forced to visit Ramsay’s chambers. And so soon after the death of—

 

She’d been a maid, too. A foolish one, but not a bad person. Why hadn’t she just obeyed?

 

“Up, Reek.” Ramsay patted his warm bed, piled with furs. Reek struggled against his aching joints and the deeply rooted orders never to use furniture, as he was not a person. But his master wanted him up, so up he went.

 

The platter smelled amazing, and he couldn’t take his eyes off it, for fear that it was only his hunger-fueled imagination. A hunk of bread adorned the plate of meat and boiled vegetables, and the steaming cup of mulled wine beside it looked like a dream.

 

When Ramsay instructed him to eat as much as he wanted, Reek fought the tightness of a sob in his throat. His mouth still bitter with the taste of his master, he was now allowed to taste something else. The meat had been cut very small for his broken teeth, and drenched in a fragrant sauce he’d never tasted before. Reek devoured it all as quickly as he could, with little worry for making himself sick.

 

As he worked on the meal, Ramsay sat pressed close, and Reek didn’t mind it. The warmth, the stability. Ramsay watched him eat as though watching a play, his pale eyes keen. Then, after he’d already grown a bit fuzzy from the wine and the creeping fullness in his stomach, he felt Ramsay’s hand travel across his thigh. Though he stiffened, he knew better than to resist. Besides, he was still being fed. That was worth anything. He kept on eating, and Ramsay let his hand wander to more painful places.

 

When he’d finished and thanked Ramsay profusely, growing a little breathless, he turned his sleepy eyes up to find Ramsay grinning with delight. Such a big smile…something wasn’t right. Had Reek done something bad, after all? Would he be punished, now?

 

“You really liked that, didn’t you.”

 

“Yes, my lord,” he gushed, honest and eager to stave off whatever idea glinted in Ramsay’s eyes.

 

“How did she taste?” Ramsay asked, pawing one hand through Reek’s dirty hair.

 

“I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”

 

“I personally thought she’d be stringier, but she turned out surprisingly tender.”

 

The hand drifted down his neck, catching enough in his collar to tighten his throat. Slowly, a coldness pierced the warm blanket of food and drink in him. What did Ramsay mean?

 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it so. I suppose that’s the only way you’ll be tasting a woman now, Reek…” He chuckled.

 

Back and forth, that hand trailed between his shoulder blades, and Reek fought the sudden churn in his stomach, the urge to be sick. Ramsay kept rubbing, though, and Reek felt the horror melt off him, the nausea quelled. That poor girl…but the dogs would have eaten her, too. And wasn’t he just another one of them, after all? His closed his eyes at Ramsay’s touch, let the hands wander over him again. The feeling of something in his stomach soothed him, even if it had to be her.


End file.
